


Turbulence and Tenderness

by iiSolari



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Frank Castle - Freeform, The Punisher, punisher netflix
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28853340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiSolari/pseuds/iiSolari
Summary: Frank Castle ends up finding someone quite important attending one of Curtis's therapy groups.
Relationships: Curtis Hoyle & Original Character(s), Frank Castle/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	Turbulence and Tenderness

There was nothing but muffled nothingness to Liz. No matter how occupied the room had been, no matter how many heart-wrenching tales were tossed around the circle, Liz could only hear murmurs. O’Connor spewing bullshit about second amendment rights and how corrupt the government is was something that Liz was not interested in listening to. Regardless, his tirade was something that did not affect her--she had gotten away with carrying her weapons and doing her deeds all this time.

As he ran through the same speech about how patriots such as themselves were glazed over, Liz went through a mental run-down of a job that Micro had given her. Something having to do with a serial abuser, overlooked by PD due to immaculacy of their crimes. Micro saw through it all, found the pattern to confirm it to be the same person, and sought her out again.

Being an underground mercenary brought bread to her table. Micro would set the meeting with those who wanted their targets dead, but of course they had to deserve what they were requesting. People would probably compare her work to that of the infamous Frank Castle, however her family was not condemned by those who she killed.

She only wanted to rid the world of the stains who beat the system, who spent nothing riding on the coat tails of corruption.

Her train of thought snapped back to reality when her ears were donned with a ‘ _sic semper tyrannis’,_ uttered by the quiet blonde who hadn’t said much when he had joined the circle.

“‘Thus always to tyrants’?” her friend Curtis had repeated, translating it to those who wouldn’t have an idea of its meaning. “You really think our governments are tyrants, Lewis?”

Lewis seems to purse his lips and shift in his seat when the spotlight is on him, inhaling sharply as if he were speaking to an auditorium crowd. “All I know is we risked out lives and did awful things, and it meant nothing when we came home.”

“Because the details of what we do go undisclosed unless you incite someone else to ask and ponder,” she tells carefully. “Most people thrive in blissful ignorance, thinking that everything you did was just for the good of the country. It’s people like us who really understand what it all meant.”

“Well said, Sasha,” Curtis smiled kindly, before his eyes swam through the faces of those who were thinking amongst themselves. “I think that’s a good note to end today’s session on, if no one else has anything to add.”

When there was several seconds of silence, Curtis gives a nod to disperse the anxiously-awaiting veterans from their seats on the metal chairs. A handful of them immediately sweep up their chairs and fold them closed, including Liz, who wandered over to the prongs on the wall to hang it up. When the chair is sturdy on its pegs, she hums a bit before turning to her guitar case that was sitting in the corner of the room.

Curtis was there, grabbing another cup of coffee from the table it lay next to. Liz strides over, picking it up carefully and slinging it over her shoulder. “Good meeting today, Curt.”

Curtis looks over at her with a kind smile, one that he seemed to wear every time he had one of these powwows. “Yeah. Color me surprised when you spoke up,” he joked. Liz had never been one to say anything during the meetings, probably for the best. He knew that she managed to find her place quickly, while most of the souls in the building continued to wander in search.

“How are you?” he follows up, standing straight once again with the new coffee steaming in his hands. “How’s Crystie?”

Crystal was Liz’s best friend and roommate. She knew Liz in high school, knew who Liz had grown up to be. The occupation that she chose, the scars she rode with. Yet she remained, rooming with Liz in order to keep a house in a remote neighborhood. She knew about Liz’s alias of Sasha Ortega, as did Curtis.

“I’m keeping busy. She’s doing the same,” Liz shrugs her shoulders. “She’s healing, though. You should stop by sometime, when you’re not trying to save wayward souls.”

Liz beams teasingly, knowing well that Crystal always had a bit of a crush on Curtis. Honestly, she always thought them to be a good match, but she would have never forced her hand about it. Not with the history that Crystal had.

Curtis laughs, shaking his head in amusement at her jab. “Maybe I will. You just have a job before coming here?” he asked, nodding to the guitar case that Liz had draped over her body.

She nods her head. “I work at the bar tonight too. Full day ahead.”

Curtis nods his head in agreement, taking a quick drink of his coffee. “You should get going, then. I don’t want you to be late for tossin’ out drunkards.”

“Oh, come on, Curt. Don’t try to get rid of me, I like talking to you too much,” she waved her hand and laughed. She opened her arms for a strong hug from Curtis, which he happily obliges after putting his coffee back on the table temporarily. 

When he lets go and drops his arms, he doesn’t hesitate to pick up his coffee cup once more. “Am I going to see ya next meeting?”

“As long as I don’t get a call,” Liz cast another smile, before turning to head out of the door. “See you next time, Curtis.”

“See you next time, Sasha,” he bids farewell, taking another drink as Liz bounded out of the door.

She turns down a hallway, quiet and cold as the remaining of the group had already vacated. She pushes through a set of double doors that led into a quaint parking lot, and it didn’t take her very long for her to set eyes on her 1966 Chevy C10. She brandishes the keys from her pocket as she steps for the vehicle, slipping it in the lock of the passenger side door and giving it a curt turn.

She pulls the guitar case back over her shoulders, humming a bit as she lays it down vertically in her passenger seat. Although, as she braced the case, her eyes settle on a worn, yellow hardcover book laying in the cushion of the seat. 

_Shit,_ she thought. She sweeps up the book and tucks it under her arm, straightening out after the chore of securing her case. She locks the door manually before shutting the passenger’s side, turning quickly and darting for the same shabby double doors. She forgot that she had borrowed a book from Curtis to pass the time, it was their way of intelligent conversation without it going to military.

The doors open just as easily as they did before, and the shoddy walls were a blur in her peripherals as she sped over to the same meeting room Curtis was in. Hopefully he was still there, Liz remembered that he took quite some time to wrap up after everyone before locking up.

Although, a new voice inside seems to skid her to a halt. She begins to move slowly, rather than the same tempo as before, so she could overhear what was being said. She could never be too cautious, considering her side job.

“It’s been awhile,” she hears Curtis greet, his voice just as welcoming as it always was.

“I’m a slow reader,” husked a new voice, one that Liz had never heard before. It didn’t belong to anyone in the group, nor did it belong to anyone that she knew Curtis hung around. At least, around her.

Liz decides to turn the corner, to get a look at the newcomer to make sure that he wasn’t there for her.

He was taller, probably around an even six feet considering the military boots he had strapped on gave him a good inch or two. His hair was black and curled, with a beard to match, she could see some of it protruding from the hood that rested on his head. His eyes were a darker color in the dim light, and that was all she could see when he had looked in her direction.

His stockier build was hidden by a black hoodie, zipped up in the front. He donned a matching pair of jeans, but were flecked with gray to show that they were worn and well-loved. He must have just gotten back from work, the same gray residue on his boots.

“Sorry,” Liz apologized quickly. “I brought your book with me today, Curt, and completely forgot to return it.”

“You at least enjoy the read?” he asked, stepping towards her to take the book.

She stretches out her hand with the book in it, letting go when Curt had a grip on it. “It was enlightening. But it seems my hobbies are better suited for finding my place in the world.”

“Like your guitar?” the stranger pipes up, causing her to dart her eyes to him quickly. 

“Yes, actually,” Liz says, her voice quizzical all the same. 

“I caught a glimpse of the case on the way to come see him,” he admitted a bit bashfully. “I used to play. Haven’t touched an instrument in years, though.”

He seems to put a couple dots together, before extending his hand. “Sorry. I’m Pete.”

She stares at the palm for a moment, as if it were going to animate and rip her arm from it’s socket. However, she extends her hand and clasps his. “Sasha.”

Something about the way he was staring at Liz evenly sent a chill down her spine. He was reading her, observing her. Trying to find similarities, she was sure, but that may had been her paranoia talking. 

No, this was someone trying to find out who she was. She was sure of it, she knew the look.

So she takes a moment to turn on a sweet smile, anything to deter this stranger from her trail. Who he was, she never would know, but there was no use in trying to find out at this moment. Not in front of Curtis. If this was anything to do with her career choice, she didn’t want him getting pulled in the middle.

“It’s nice to meet you, Pete. If you’re here to talk about attending a meeting, I hope to see you at the next one,” she says confidently, before giving a wave to Curtis.

She walks casually out of the single door leading into the room, turning the corner to head back to the parking lot double doors. She pulls out her phone, muttering different curse words under her breath as she dials Crystal’s number quickly.

Once she was out the door, she practically sprinted to her car and unlocked the driver’s side door. She almost swan dived inside once the door was open, shutting it before dialing out to Crystal.

Her friend answers, thankfully quick. “Hey, Liz. What’s up?”

“Pack me a bag, I’m going away for a couple days,” Liz responded simply. “I think I’ve been made.”

There was a long pause, before Crystal’s voice was heard in the earpiece. “How?”

“I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling,” Liz explained, as she put the key in the ignition to start heading to her house. “Please, Crys, I’ll be there in fifteen. I’ll explain when I’m there.”

There was an audible sigh on the other end. “Fine. I’ll see you in fifteen.”

“Jesus Christ, thank you. You’re the best,” Liz said, her voice relieved as she pulled the phone from her cheek and hung up quickly.

Next stop, after picking up her things: Micro’s hideout.


End file.
